It's late Saturday night and all are in bed...but me of course. It's been a good weekend so far, with my son home for a weekend visit from the residential facility. He has done awesome, and he's showing real growth in areas he has needed help in.
He has also started a medication, along with counselling and therapy, for ADHD, along with the various other diagnosis he has. The medicine started for this has made a marked difference. So far, gone are the self harming behaviors. No more hitting himself in the head. No more punching himself. His picking at bug bites has went significantly down. His raging meltdowns have ceased, at least for now. He was also taking pills without crushing them now, and doing more things independently. He'd been gone 2 weeks.
I picked him up Friday after the school let out where he is, as he goes to an on campus school. We had a quick therapy session with the staff psychologist, and I stood in shock as my son put together strings of words and put thoughts into words clearly, the first time I'd heard this. I'd heard lots of stammering, lots of incomplete thoughts, fractured sentences, but not complete clear thoughts.
My child, who has been more or less locked inside himself mostly for 11 years, was able to express himself verbally.
Late Friday night, he decided he didn't want to go to sleep, and so we stayed up talking til nearly midnight. We spoke of the length of time he had to stay at the facility, when he'd come home for another visit, what goals he was working on, and the friends he'd made so far at the facility. I showed him his next meeting date on the calendar, and a general time frame for discharge, depending on how he progressed. It didn't look so much like forever then,
Today was a testing time for the training my son has done, and he passed with flying colors. When placed in situations that used to send him into meltdown mode, hurting me and others and sometimes involving police interventions, he didn't bat an eye or lift a finger, but rather let it all slide by as if it didn't bother him. We went about a "normal" schedule, and many potential triggers didn't...trigger...
Tomorrow, Sunday, I must return him to the facility. I don't want to.
It's not that they're doing anything wrong...they are doing well with him.
It's because he's my little boy, and I don't want to let go again. I don't want to send my boy away again.
Tonight he begged me to let him sleep on the couch, and me in the recliner so he wouldn't have to sleep alone. Where he stays at the residential facility, he is in his own room, and he has told me he doesn't like being alone. So I will again sleep in the recliner, for my son. I cried after he went to sleep, begging God for strength to let go again, because I don't have it on my own. I can't in my own strength, I don't have it. If I had my way, he'd stay home and not go back. My boy would be home and go to school locally and be with his siblings and me and stepdad, be able to see his dad and stepmom, and live life at home again.
But I have to let my son go again.
I also prayed for strength for him to be able to face the long trip back to the facility. Three hours one way is a long long drive when you don't want to go. I also asked protection for his little heart, that he not be damaged as he finished up his stay at the facility. God is working in us, He is making results happen in my son. It's taking lots of changing and molding, hurting and letting go, facing what we once thought we'd never want to face.
We are leaning on Him...